When you have to visit a public restroom, you usually find a line of women,
so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check
for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door
opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You
get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so
long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no
doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if
there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it
around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the
FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd
love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or
lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover
to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear
your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you
would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one
that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the
puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door
hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest,
and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious,
tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing
altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of
course.

You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has
made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat
because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if
you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because,
you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because,
frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused
that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a firehose against the
inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt
and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks
everything down with s uch force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper
dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At that point, you give up.

You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're
exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and
then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to
operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with
spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.

A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper
trailing from your shoe. ( Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the
paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly,
"Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left
the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is
your purse hanging around your neck?"

. . .This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom
(rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what
really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked
question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal
can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the
door!!

ahhahahhahaha..oh my goodness!!!so true...
I now carry a small pk of covers in my purse,just in case. I found them at Walmart., where they sell travel bottles of stuff....I can't do that stance any more.

My wonderful friend, Candi, who is a fabulous writer (among many other talents!!!), had this response to the snork above. I thought it was so fantastic that I asked if I could share it with you all...I think it's hilarious!

Quote:

Oh here's my latest hobby horse ... the "new" toilet paper dispensers that have 3 rolls in them, called "never out." I recently contacted a contracter because I KNOW those dispensers are installed wrong all over the world.

Okay, here's the scenario ... you are enthroned, and having taken care of business, reach way down and up to pull on the tissue, but alas, your fingers barely scrape the empty roll. Your next challenge is to maneuver the empty roll you can barely touch so that a new one comes into place ... ah, there's the rub ... to do so, one must stand on one's head ...but, that's a wee (sorry about the pun) bit impossible because you

1. need to literally take care of business WITH tissue
2. are over the age of 16 and your body just doesn't do contortions anymore
3. are in a huge hurry and of course, there's a long line of other ladies for whom standing on ones' head is nigh on impossible

the answer to this quandry is that these dispensers are supposed to be installed at SHOULDER-HEIGHT when one is sitting upon the commode!!!!!

You know it must be MEN who install them ... any female who has been through this situation realizes that toilet tissue issues are up there with crude oil prices and Google stock.